Manamantha gives Telugu cinema what Brahmotsavam couldn't

Chandra Sekhar Yeleti is an "ordinary" filmmaker. He doesn't roam about with scripts centring on action and masala. His films have a humane touch to them and since his National Award winning debut, Aithe, all his works have had a shadow that none of the other contemporary filmmakers can bring to Telugu cinema.

His subsequent films have shown us what he is capable of in terms of storytelling.

Manamantha starring Mohanlal, Gautami, Viswant, and Raina Rao takes a turn from mainstream cinema and goes for a long drive. The "only" commercial element I found in the film was the mall song. It wasn't really necessary. Such clichés are sprinkled throughout Manamantha's duration, but Yeleti handles them with care. I was wondering if the whole film was composed in slow-motion shots - there are one too many during its course.

Did Yeleti write the film at a slow pace or was the narration being dragged by its feet? What he chooses to portray with actors' close-ups and natural, not practised tears feels almost real.

All the leading actors cry in the Manamantha because of the pain and happiness they witness through life's looking glass. When Gautami and Mohanlal break down at separate points in the film, we sense the need to give them a hug.

If there's a lesson you want to pass on to the next generation, it's the simple moral story Manamantha leaves you with: when you are given something that interests you, you will take it up with pleasure; but if you are told to choose what interests you, you will start sweating.

It's also the kind of story we should be telling kids and grown-ups. The scenes where Gautami searches for the finest product that would get her the "big smiles" make us realise the fragility of happiness.

It reminded me of the scene from Mahendran's Johnny in which Rajinikanth tells Deepa, "There's always one thing better than the other in this world. There's no end to it. We shouldn't keep changing our decisions because of that."

Strangely enough, Mahesh Babu's Brahmotsavam and Manamantha are two sides of the same coin. While the first spoke about togetherness and goodness in a manner that made us run away from the theatres, Yeleti's simple effort speaks about the same things in a way appeals to us.

Both films deserve minus points for various categories. Yet, Manamantha passes the litmus test with its believable characters, and their understandable complexities.

Yeleti's films, though shorter in terms of screen time, seem longer as they travel in trucks with heavy emotions. If there's humour, it is not drawn from a comedian's antics, but from a dialogue or a situation.

He could have utilised Vennela Kishore's comic timing to supplement entertainment. He could have given more funny lines to Urvashi. He could have added few layers of thrilling moments.

Yeleti could have stayed away from trying to connect the dots in the climactic portions. The "could haves" are clearly not a part of Yeleti's vision. What if they were? Would Manamantha have been a nicer film? The jury is still out on that.

But in Yeleti, there is a filmmaker who pushes his stories from the filmmaker's desk and not from the producer's chair.